I'm missing someone

whom I never met

I'm crying over something

that didn't happen yet

I'm regretting the things

that I never said

Keep staring at the messages

that still stay unread.

I care about the people

who don't seem to care

I try to change myself

so they know I'm there.

I compare myself

with someone who's gorgeous

And looking at myself,

I shed a zillion tears.

People walk by me, they stare

Say things to me, words do maim

I know they talk about me

i know they call me names

Is it a crime that I exist?

Am I to blame?

They tell me it's okay

but is it? is it really?

Should I always walk away

when people do bad things to me?

I ask myself, is it just me

who's always nervous

so self-conscious?

Am I really ugly

or did no-one ever make me feel gorgeous?

A poem extracted from my ongoing novel: Infidelity.

K.C.Waghela

_poemholic